


Edd's Crew

by Lucy_Ely07



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Betrayal, Dancing Competitions, Multi, No Singing Involved, Not my Original AU, Past Relationships, Pitch Perfect AU but with dancing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 19:45:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10725966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucy_Ely07/pseuds/Lucy_Ely07
Summary: Dancing is an art that people take for granted. Tom, Edd and Matt were living a free life filled with dancing, expressing themselves in their own ways when a person from old times decides to show up.





	Edd's Crew

**Author's Note:**

> Just so you know, this AU isn't mine. I found it while scrolling through the Tumblr of one of my favorite artists. I'm also his subscriber in youtube. I wanted to ask his permission first before posting this but I couldn't find any means of contacting him. This is just a parody fic since he's planning to make his own written work of his AU. It might be darker than what the owner intended, but I don't know how to write happy fics if you'd read my other works.
> 
> Check him out!  
> Tumblr:   
> http://princeofmints.tumblr.com
> 
> Youtube:  
> https://m.youtube.com/channel/UCMAEvQ9udxw_Sx5dlrOif7Q

The night was cold and wet as rain poured down the city. The slums weren't exactly the best place to be at a time like this, with all the muggers and killers loose around these parts but Tom couldn't find it in himself to care. Losing to a traitor didn't exactly leave a good taste in his mouth, not even after all the Smirnoff he had drank. He was drunk, pissed and tired, so so tired.

 

The raindrops continued to fall unto him, making him feel the cold down to his bones but at this point he didn't care. He liked feeling numb, it was a welcomed sensation. No one liked feeling hurt, so it was better to feel nothing at all. The Brit took another swig of his flask, emptying it immediately, as if he didn't drink enough alcohol as it is. But it helped clear his mind of all those damn memories.

 

Memories of the good old days where their crew would join competitions for the hell of it. Sure, there would be a fight here and there with Eduardo's crew, along with the avoidance of Jon on his part. But at least he didn't feel like this. He followed his passion, danced 'til he dropped, 'til his body ached from all that moving. But it was a good ache, a kind of pain that reminded him he has a friend that supported him, a boyfriend who loved him, and his passion to follow through.

 

Looking up at the dark, cloudy sky, he began to wonder when had this pain in his heart begun. But it was obvious, the answer was as clear like water. When he heard Tord got into an accident, his mind went blank. All he thought about was whether he was still alive or not. He didn't give a shit about anything else but that. He paced in front of the emergency room, waiting for any news whether the Commie was still breathing or not.

 

Seconds turned to minutes, then to hours, 'til Tom didn't even know what time it was. When the door swung open and a hospital bed with a patient covered in a white blanket came out, Tom's heart dropped. He wanted to chase after the people pushing the bed towards who-knows-where, push them aside, and take the peaceful corpse of the only person he loved in the world. What stopped him was a grip that tightened as moments passed, a grip from his bestfriend and crewmate, Edd.

 

"He's still in surgery," The smaller brunette assured him.

 

He looked at the doors of the Emergency room, not noticing that he was tremling, and grit his teeth. Tom knew he can't do anything, it was all up to those damned doctors. But he swore that if Tord didn't survive, Tord wasn't going to the afterlife alone.

 

It took half an hour before Edd could finally get Tom to sit down and just wait, another for Matt to join the two. When two more hours passed, finally someone comes out. The surgeon explained to them the treatments done to their companion, the stitches and such. The trio was relieved enough as it was when the doctor said that he'll recover. But the most dreadful news that came out of his mouth was one that determined the end of the crew.

 

"But due to the fatal injuries he acquired in the crash," the surgeon sighs. "I'm sorry but he may never dance again."

 

He didn't know if it was anger, grief or whatever emotion was out there in the world but it filled his brain and he went on a rampage. Edd and Matt were able to hold him down as a nurse injected a sedative in him. He woke up in His shared apartment with Edd and Matt in the living room.

 

When he was allowed by Edd to finally visit Tord, the nurses stopped him. "I'm sorry but the patient doesn't wish to see anyone."

 

"That is fucking bullshit!" He exclaims, punching a nearby wall as he did. The nurses were ready to call security but before they could, Tom pushed them aside and forced his way into the Hospital room.

 

Tord was sitting up on his hospital bed, half his body covered in bandages like a mummy. His gaze was to the window, facing away from his unwelcomed visitor. Tom wanted to come closer but something about the sight made it seem like a better idea to stay put. A nurse suddenly came in apologizing for allowing someone to enter but Tord just said it was fine and dismissed her, all while avoiding Tom's eyes.

 

When he got tired of the silence, Tom finally opened his mouth to ask, "Why didn't you want to let me in?" But still, the other wouldn't look, "Tord, look at me." He whispers.

 

He still didn't look.

 

"Tord, LOOK at me," Tom demanded, tone deeper and louder. Still nothing. The Brit grit his teeth, "Tord." He tried to say in his most calm tone but made it sound like a snarl, "I said to LOOK A-"

 

"DON'T COME ANY CLOSER," Tord shouted as Tom took a step forward. It had startled his guest, causing him to take a step back. "Just . . . Stay there. . Please, don't come any closer. I don't want anyone seeing me like this."

 

"What are you saying? I'm not JUST anyone."

 

"That's why I didn't want you of all people to come here!" The Norwegian tried to swallow down the sob on his throat, then gave a half-hearted laugh, "Come on, Tom. I mean, can't you see these injuries!? Isn't it to show you that I'm done! I CAN'T DANCE AGAIN!"

 

"So what if you can't dance again!?" Tom suddenly blurted out, eyes widening as he realized what he had just said.

 

"So what?" Finally, Tord looked at his direction. His uncovered eye were void of anything and tears went down his cheeks. "Tom, Dancing is my LIFE. I can only be free through dancing, you of all people know that. Yet you still ask me 'so what?'"

 

Tom went closer to the bed, close enough to reach out and touch his boyfriend's face with his hands, "What's important is that you are still alive."

 

But Tord slapped his hands away and turned back to the window, "What's there to live for?" They went back to their silence until the Brit thought that it would be better to give his lover time to think, alone.

 

The next day when he came to visit, Tord had gone. The doctors were no help since it was against Hospital rules to give out private information to outsiders. Their crew went to the dumps just like that. Two people weren't a crew. They couldn't get into any competitions, official or non. Tom was close to giving up, until Edd finally reasoned with him to let Matt join.

 

Their cheerleader-slash-friend wasn't exactly much of a dancer. He had better chance of winning a Noble prize award than a Dance-Off. But they somehow made it work, which was basically having the blonde pose behind the duo as they danced.

 

His alcoholism became worse there, he guess. Tord was always the one who assured that he was loved and wanted but now that he was gone, falling into depression was so much easier. Surprisingly, it was Matt whom gave him a way to keep his mind off the alcohol. It was somewhere on October around the time Matt finally moved in when he was awoken by the vain blonde, forcing him to jog together.

 

Matt's whining was annoying and loud, mostly loud. So loud that Edd was made Tom get up and just fucking jog already are else he will confiscate Tom's Flask and ban any alcoholic drinks in the house for a year. He jogged in his pajamas at that time, 'cause he couldn't careless about anyone staring. Then Matt started making him wear those hideous work-out shorts, which, with a little more whining and a death threat from Edd, he had no choice to wear.

 

December came and he wanted to kill Matt for making him run in the snow while wearing fucking shorts. Looking back at those times, he should really thank Matt. He may not be the brightest nor most gifted person there was, but he was a friend. So was Edd, he stayed by his side throuh thick and thin. It took a defeat from an ex-friend, a cold shower from the rain, and tons of alcohol just for him to realize that.

 

Time flies way too fast for his liking, and the many years that has passed since that day in the Hospital room, didn't matter anymore. Tord was back.

 

The same old grin which Tom fell for years ago was plastered on his face he entered the abandoned ballroom. Behind him followed two more people wearing red hoodies, similar shade to the one wrapped around the Norwegian's waist. Tom marched right up to him when he realized why they wore matching outfits.

 

Tord noticed him approaching and opened his arms open, as if expecting a hug, "Hello, old frien-." His words got cut off when an unexpected punch on the face made his ass hit the floor. "I am not your friend," Tom snarled and went back to where Edd and Matt had been gawking.

 

The Brit glared at the fallen brunette even as he walked away, eyes not leaving the bandana hanging around his neck. "What the heck was that, Tom?! You know, they could have the judges disqualify us for that!" Matt scolded him but Tom was too busy eyeing the bandana.

 

When Matt was finally done, Edd finally asked, "What's wrong?" The Jehova's Witness let out a growl through gritted teeth as he said, "HE CAN’T KEEP THE BANDANA IF HE’S ON A DIFFERENT TEAM- THAT WAS OUR THING"

 

That had been a week ago. Since then the crew, Red Army had been gathering glory, competition after competition. It kept leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

 

His wrist still hurt from the 1990 spin a few hours ago but he still slammed his fist to the ground. He hated feeling like this, feeling so conflicted. Once upon a time, he loved this Commie bastard. And now, he wants nothing more than to hate him, hate him like how everyone hated Tom.

 

Feeling numb is really better than this. Which was why he welcomed the feeling of himself fading to the darkness, whether it was because of sleep or death, he didn't care. He just wanted to feel nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> Just to remind you guys. 
> 
>  
> 
> I don't own anything. This AU belongs to Zachary Jack, and Eddsworld belong to Edd Gould.


End file.
